The Ten Pleasures of Marriage Part 7

THE TENTH PLEASURE.

_A great Child-bed Feast is kept, and the Child put in Cloaths._

Oh how pleasant is th'estate of married people, above that of Batchelors and Maids? how it distributes Mirths and Pleasures! Verily one may in some measure recogitate or write something of it, but it is impossible to imprint so Sun-like a splendor in Potters clay, or to display it with the most curious Colours. Though the accomplishedst Painter might have drawn it very near the life, yet it would be but a dead draught, in comparison of the reality and experience that is found in it self. You have already seen here nine Parts or Tables but it is not ninety Pictures that can sufficiently shew you the fulness of one of the nine Parts.

Be therefore chearfully merry, O sweet Couple, because you are in so short a time arisen to the height of being possessors of all these Pleasures: And so much the more, the ninth being hardly past, before the tenth follows, as it were treading upon the heels of the t'other.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Folio 188. _Published by The Navarre Society, London._]

They have scarce wiped their mouths or digested the Child-bed Wine in their stomacks, before there starts up a new day of mirth & jollity; for now there must be a Child-bed feast kept & the child must be put in Cloaths. O what two vast Pleasures are these for the young Father!

'tis indeed too much joy for one person alone to be possessor of.

At first you had the Pleasure for to treat the Women, those pretty pleasing Creatures, and to hear all their sweet and amiable discourses. But now you shall be honoured with treating the Matron like Midwife, and those Men and Women that are your kindest friends and nearest relations; Yea and the G.o.d-Fathers and G.o.d-Mothers also who will all of them accompany you with courteous discourses and pleasant countenances: They will begin a l.u.s.ty Bowl or thumping gla.s.s, _super naculum_ drink it out, upon the health & prosperity of you, your Bedfellow and young Son; and very heartily wish that you may increase and multiply, at least every year with one new Babe; because that they then might the better come to the Child-bed Feast.

Here you'l see now how smartly they'l both lick your dishes, and toss your Cups and Gla.s.ses off. Begin you only some good healths, as; pray G.o.d bless his Majesty and all the Royal Family: the Prosperity of our Native Country; all the Well wishers of the Cities welfare, &c. And when you have done, they'l begin; and about it goes to invest you with the honour and name, in a full bowl to the Father of the Family; Well is not that a n.o.ble t.i.tle; such a Pleasure alone is worth a thousand pounds at lest.

And whilest the Men are busie this way; the good woman with the other Women are contriving on the other side how the Child ought to be put in Cloaths upon the best and modishest manner: For she is resolved to morrow morning to be Church'd, & in the afternoon she'l go to market.

She accomplishes the first well enough, but is at a d.a.m.nable doubt in the second part of her resolution; for by the way, in the Church, and in the streets, she hath continually observed severall children, and the most part of them dressed up in severall sorts of fas.h.i.+ons: Some of them she hath a great fancy for, but then she doubts whether that be the newest mode or not. One seems too plain and common, which makes her imagine in her thoughts; that's too Clownish. But others stand very neat and handsom. 'Tis true, the Stuf and the Lining is costly and very dear; but then again it is very comly and handsom. And then again she thinks with her self, as long as I am at Market, I'd as good go through stirch with it; and make but one paying for all; it is for our first, and but for a little child, not for a great person; therefore it is better to take that which is curious and neat, the price for making is all one; besides it will be a great Pleasure for my husband when he sees how delicately the child is drest up, and his mony so extraordinarily well husbanded.

Now, my dearest, pray be you merry: if the stuf hath cost somthing much, you have need but of little; and it is for your first. When it grows bigger, or that you get more, you must part with much more mony.

Don't grudge at this for once, because then you would spoil all your mirth and Pleasure with it. Rejoice that you have a Wife, who is not only good to fetch children out of the Parsley Bed; but is also very carefull to see them well nourished, and neat and cleanly cloath'd.

You your self have the praise and commendation of it. Let her alone a while, for women must have their wills; say but little to her, for her brains are too much busied already; and it may be that in three hours time, you would hardly get three words of answer from her; and suppose you should relate somthing or other to her, this shall be your answer from her at last, that she did not well understand you, because all her thoughts, nay her very sences do as it were glide to & again, one among another continually, to order the dressing up of her child.

I am very well a.s.sured, O new invested Husband, that your wits at present run a Wool-gathering, because that both Merchandize and Trade are neither of them so quick as you would fain see them; and by reason of this tedious and destructive War, monies is horrible scarce, nothing near so plentifull as you could wish it to be: But comfort your self herewith, that it hath hapned oft-times to others, & will yet also happen oftner to you. Yet this is one of the least things; but stay a little, to morrow or next day the Nurse goes away. This seems to be a merriment indeed; for then you'l have an Eater, a Stroy-good, a Stuf-gut, a Spoil-all, and Prittle-pratler, less than you had before.

You are yet so happy that you have a Wet-Nurse, that carefully looks after the Child; by which means both you and your Wife are freed from tossing and tumbling with it in the night: whilest others, on the contrary, that have no Wet-Nurses in their houses; begin first to tast, when the Dry-Nurse goes away, what a Pleasure it is that the Child must be set by the Bedside, and the charge thereof left unto both Father & Mother, when it oftentimes happens that the good woman is yet so weak, she can neither lay the Child in, nor take it out of the Cradle; insomuch that the Father here must put a helping hand to't, because he is of a stronger const.i.tution, and hath the greatest share in it.

By my faith such as those are they who have the first and true tast of the Kernel of the Tenth Pleasure; because the husband ought as then, out of a tender affection for his wife to rock continually, that she might take her rest; otherwise she would not get any suck in her b.r.e.a.s.t.s for the Child: And happy they are somtimes, if they come off with but rocking the most part of the night; for many times it happens, that the Child is so restless and unquiet, that Father, Mother, & Maid; nay and all whatsoever is in the house must out of their beds to quiet it; and though they use a thousand tricks and stratagems, yet all's to no purpose.

And yet this is but a small matter for them neither; for before a few months are past, the child begins to get teeth; and bawls and cries so night & day, that they can tell the clock all the night long; wis.h.i.+ng a thousand thousand times over that they might see day-break; and so by the comfortable a.s.sistance of day-light receive a little solace for all their toiling and tumbling too and again.

Yet I would advise such as these, that they must in no manner be discomforted at this; if they intend to demonstrate that they have learnt somthing in the School of Marriage, to exercise their patiences: But, on the contrary, to shew themselves contented with all things; being a.s.sured, that hereafter when all this trouble is past, they shall receive the happiness, that the child will return them thanks with its pretty smiles; and in time also will salute them with a slabbering cocurring. And I beleeve now that they clearly find that all things do not go so even in this World, as they well imagined: And that the fairest Suns.h.i.+ne of Marriage, may be somtimes darkned with a Cloudy Storm.

You married people, that have the help of a Wet-Nurse, receive a much greater advantage in partic.i.p.ating of the Pleasures of Marriage, neither need you to be troubled with tossing & dandling of the child in the night.

O, young House-Father, this is a most incomparable Pleasure for you!

For now you may most certainly see the approach of a Daughter to your Son; and by that means reap the possession again of all those former Pleasures; & by every one be saluted with the t.i.tle that you are an excellent good Artist.

If it be so, be carefull that you do not gad up and down with your wife too much on horseback, or in Coaches; for fear it might make her miscarry. But you have learnt all these things well enough at the first, and without doubt have kept them well in remembrance.

Do but behold, in the mean time, what an unexpressible Pleasure your dearly Beloved hath in the tricking up of her sweet Baby in the most neatest dresses. What a World of pains she takes & spends her spirits, to make the Tailor understand, according to what fas.h.i.+on she will have it made; & to hasten him that all things may be ready and totally finisht against Sunday next.

O new Father, now open your eys! Behold what a pretty Son you have!

How happy you are in so loving and understanding a Wife that knows how to trick it so curiously up in this manner! She was never better pleased! Undoubtedly the Summer nights are too long, and the daies too short for her to gad up and down traversing the streets of the City, that she may fullfill her desire of shewing it to every body: never was any thing more neatly drest. But the Nurse and the Maid with the Child in the mean while at Jericho; for their very backs and sides seem to be absolutely broken with carrying it up & down from day to day. And most especially when the Child is wean'd, and the Wet-Nurse turn'd away, the Maid cannot let it penetrate into her brain; that she now not only the whole week must rock, sing, dandle, dress, and walk abroad with it; but that she is upon Sundaies also bound to the Child, like a Dog to a halter; and never can stir out, as she formerly did, to walk abroad with _Giles the Baker_, or _John True the Tailor_; nor so much as go once to give a visit to her Country-folks or kindred; which occasions no small difference between the Maid and the Mistriss.

But good House Father, never trouble your self at it, for this belongs also to the Pleasures of Marriage; nor do not seem discontented because your Dearest walks abroad thus every day; but rather think with your self, she takes her spinning Wheel and reel along with her.

And if in her absence, you have not that due attendance, nor find that in the house and Kitchin things are not so well taken care for, why then, you must imagine to be satisfied with th'a.s.sistance of the Semstress, or some such sort of person, as well as you were when you enjoied the Eighth Pleasure: You must also observe, that if the Child should sit much, it might get crooked legs, and then the sweet Babe were ruined for ever. It is also too weak yet to be any waies roughly handled; but it begins from day to day to grow stronger and stronger: Also with your Dearest carrying it abroad continually to visit all your friends and acquaintance, it learns by degrees to eat all things, and drinks not only Beer, but some Wine too. And I a.s.sure you it is no small Pleasure for the Father and Mother to see that this little young Gosling can so perfectly distinguish the tast of the Wine, from the tast of the Beer: tho when it is come to some elder years, perhaps they would give a hundred pound, if they could but wean it from it.

But that's too far to be lookt into. And care too soon taken makes people quickly gray-headed.

Before you reach this length, yea perhaps before some few weeks are at an end; you will see this sweet Babe afflicted with either the Measels or small Pox; and then you'l wish for a good sum of mony that he might not be disfigured with them, in having many pock-holes. And it is no wonder, for who knows whether he may be past small-pocking and measeling when he is five & twenty years of age? But on the contrary there may then perchance appear so many glimps of marriage Pleasures from him, that such small things will not be once lookt at.

For if your Wife be now upon a new reckoning, and you come then, as I have told you before, to get a Daughter; you will in time see what a pretty sweet Gentlewoman she'l grow to be; how modestly & orderly she goes to learn to write and read; but most especially to p.r.i.c.k samples; which perhaps she'l be wholly perfect in, before she hath half learnt to sow: nay its probable that she'l be an Artist at the making of Bone-lace, though she was never taught it.

Otherwise both you & her Mother will reap an extraordinary Pleasure in seeing your Daughter grow up in all manner of comly and civil deportments; and that she begins to study in the book of _French manners and behaviours_; and knows also how to dress up her self so finically with all manner of trink.u.m trank.u.ms, that all the neighbouring young Gentlewomen, and your rich Neeces esteem themselves very much honoured with the injoiment of her company; where they, following the examples of their Predecessors, do, by degrees, instruct one another in the newest fas.h.i.+ons, finest Flanders Laces, the difference and richness of Stuffs, the neatest cut Gorgets, and many more such Jincombobs as these. Nay, and what's more, they begin also to invite and treat each other like grave persons, according as the opportunity will allow them, first with some Cherries and Plums; then with some Filbuds and Small Nuts; or Wallnuts & Figs; and afterwards with some Chesnuts and new Wine; or to a game at Cards with a dish of Tee, or else to eat some Pancakes and Fritters or a Tansie; nay, if the Coast be clear to their minds to a good joint of meat & a Sallad.

Till at last it comes so far, that through these delicious conversations, they happen to get a Sweetheart, and in good time a bedfellow to keep them from slumbring and sleeping. And it is very pleasing to see that they do so observe the making good of the old Proverb,

_As old Birds did, the young ones sing, Which is a very pleasant thing._

Happy are you, O you new Housholders, who have already possessed your selves of so many Pleasures in your marriage; and are now come just to the very entrance to repossess your selves of them over again; and perchance they'l never depart from you as long as you see the one day follow the other. Be not backward or negligent in relating your happiness to others; but if there be any distast or disaster that can happen in the married estate, lock it up in the very Closet of your heart, and abhor everlastingly the thoughts of relating it; then you will have many that will pursue your footsteps, and be Listed into your Company, & then also will your estate and condition be famous through the whole World.

CONCLUSION.

Thus long you have seen, Courteous Reader, how that those married people, who are but indifferently gifted with temporal means, indeavour to puff up each other with vain and airy hopes and imaginations, perswading themselves that all the troubles, vexations, and bondages of the married estate; are nothing else but Mirths, Delights and Pleasures; perhaps to no other end but to mitigate their own miserable condition, or else to draw others into the same unhappy snare; as indeed oftentimes hapneth. But it is most sad and lamentable, that the meaner sort of people, when they have thrown themselves into it, make their condition a thousand times worse then it was before: For they, who at first could but very soberly and sparingly help themselves, do find when they are married, that they must go through not only ten, but at least a thousand cares and vexations. And all what hath hitherto been said of the ten Pleasures, is only spoken of the good and most agreeable matches; and not of any of those, which many times are so different and contrary of humour, as the light is from darkness; where there is a continual h.e.l.l of dissention, cursing, mumbling and maundring; nay biting & scratching into the bargain, which for the most part is occasioned by the quarrelsom, crabbed, lavish, proud, opinionated, domineering, and unbridled nature of the female s.e.x. Besides there are a great number (which I will be silent of) who do all they can to please others, and Cuckold their own husbands. And others there are that disguise themselves so excessively with strong Waters, that a whole day long they can hardly close their Floud-gates. So that you need not wonder much, if you see the greatest part of women (tho they trick themselves never so finely up) can hardly get husbands; and their Parents are fain at last to give a good sum of mony with them, that they may disburthen themselves of them. Insomuch that it is easie to be seen that they are in effect of less value then old Iron, Boots and Shoes, &c. for we find both Merchants and mony ready alwaies to buy those commodities.

Therefore O you that are yet so happy as to have kept your selves out of this dreadfull estate of marriage, have a horror for it. Shun a woman much more than a Fish doth the hook. Remember that Solomon amongst all women kind could not find one good. Observe by what hath befallen those that went before you, what is approaching to your self, if you follow their footsteps. And be most certainly a.s.sured that the acutest pens are not able to expound the light & feasiblest troubles and disasters of marriage, set then aside the most difficile and ponderous. Do but read with a special observation the insuing Letter of a Friends advice touching marriage; imprint it as with a Seal upon your heart; and lay fast hold upon that golden expression of the glorious Apostle, _It is good for man not to touch a woman._

THE END OF THE TEN PLEASURES OF MARRIAGE.

A LETTER

From one Friend to another,

_Desiring to know whether it be advisable to marry._

_SIR,_

I must acknowledge that the Letter which you have writ me hath given me some inc.u.mbrance, and made me more then three times to ruminate upon the question you propounded to me concerning Marriage; for it is a matter of great importance, that ought to be well pondered and considered of, before one should adventure to solemnize & celebrate it. Several of my familiar friends have troubled me touching the very same subject, and I gave them every one my advice according as they were affected; but me-thinks I ought not to deal so loose and unboundedly with you, by reason I dare speak unto you with more freedom and truth. First, there are two things which bind me strictly to you, Nature and the Affection; and moreover the great knowledge I have of this so necessary an evil. I will tell you my opinion, then you may use your own discretion, whether you will approve of my meaning for advice or not. For my part, I beleeve that of all the disasters we are subject to in our life time, that of Marriage takes preference from all the rest: But for as much as it is necessary for the multiplying the World, it is fit it should be used by such as are not sensible of it, and can hardly judge of the consequences thereof.

Neither do I esteem any man unhappy, let whatsoever disasters there will happen to him, if he doth not fall beyond his sence so far as to take a Wife. Those troubles that may befall us otherwise, are alwaies of so small a strength! that he who hath but the least magnanimity may easily overpower them. But the Tortures of Marriage are such a burthen, that I never saw no man, let him be as couragious as he would, which it hath not brought under the yoke of her Tyranny. Marry then, you shall have a thousand vexations, a thousand torments, a thousand dissatisfactions, a thousand plagues; and in a word, a thousand sort of repentings, which will accompany you to your Grave.

You may take or chuse what sort of a Wife you will, she'l make you every day repent your taking of her. What cares will come then to awake and disturb you in the middle of your rest! and the fear of some mischance or other will feed your very spirit with a continual trouble. For a morning-alarm you shall have the children to awaken you out of sleep. Their lives shall hasten your death. You shall never be at quiet till you are in your Grave. You will be pining at many insufferable troubles, and a thousand several cogitations will be vexing your spirits at the chargeable maintenance of your Family.

Insomuch that your very Soul will be tormented with incessant crosses, which alwaies accompany this evil, in the very happiest marriages. So that a Man ought in reality to confess, that he who can pa.s.s away his daies without a Wife is the most happiest. Verily a Wife is a heavy burthen; but especially a married one; for a Maid that is marriageable, will do all that ever she can to hide her infirmities, till she be tied in Wedlock to either one or other miserable wretch.

She overpowers her very nature and affections; changes her behaviour, & covers all her evil and wicked intentions. She dissembleth her hypocrisie, and hides her cunning subtleties. She puts away all her bad actions, and masks all her deeds. She mollifies both her speech and face; and to say all in one word, she puts on the face of an Angel, till she hath found one or other whom she thinks fit to deceive with her base tricks and actions. But having caught him under the Slavery of this false apparition; she then turns the t'other side of the Meddal; and draws back the curtain of her Vizards, to shew the naked truth, which she so long had palliated, and her modesty only forbad her to reveal: By degrees then vomiting up the venom that she so long had harboured under her sweet hypocrisie. And then is repenting, or the greatest understanding of no worth to you: Perhaps you may tell me, that you have a Mistriss, who is fair, rich, young, wise, airy, and hath the very majestical countenance of a Queen upon her forehead; and that these are all reasons which oblige you to love her. But I pray, consider with your self, that a fair Woman is oftentimes tempted; a young, perillous; a rich, proud and haughty; a wise, hypocritical; an airy, full of folly; and if she be eloquent, she is subject to speak evilly: if she be jocund and light hearted, she'l leave you to go to her companions, and thinks that the care of her mind, is with you in your solitariness; and by reason she can flatter you so well, it never grieves you. If she be open-hearted, her freedom of spirit will appear hypocritical to you: her airiness you will judge to be tricks that will be very troublesom to you. If she love playing, she'l ruine you. If she be liquorish and sweet-tooth'd, she leads your children the ready road to an Hospital. If she be a bad Housekeeper, she lets all things run to destruction, that hath cost you so much care and trouble to get together. If she be a finical one, that will go rich in her apparel, she'l fill the Shopkeepers Counters with your mony. And in this manner her lavishness, shall destroy all your estate. To be short, let her be as she will, she shall never bring you much profit. In good troth, I esteem very little those sort of things, which you imagine to have a great delight in. 'Tis true, if you take a Wife, which is ugly, poor, innocent, without either air or spirit; that's a continual burthen to you all your life time. The old are commonly despised; the ugly abhor'd; the poor slighted; and the innocent laught at. They are called beasts that have no ingenuity: and women without airiness, have generally but small sence of love. In these last some body might say to you, that one ought to take of them that are indifferently or reasonably well qualified. But I will surge a little higher, and tell you plainly, that that will be just like one who fearing to drown himself at the brinks of a River, goeth into the middle, to be the higher above water. You see now, why I cannot advise you to marry. Yet I would not have you to beleeve, tho I so much discommend it, that it is no waies usefully profitable. I esteem it to be a holy inst.i.tution ordained by G.o.d Almighty. That which makes it bad is the woman, in whom there is no good. If you will marry, you must then conclude never to be any thing for your self again; but to subject your self to the toilsom will and desires of a Wife, most difficult to be born with; to pa.s.s by all her deficiences; to a.s.sist her infirmities; to satisfie her insatiable desires; to approve of all her pleasures, & whatsoever she also will you must condescend to. Now you have heard and understood all my reasons and arguments, you may then tell me, that you have a fine estate, and that you would willingly see an heir of your own that might possess it; and that it would be one of your greatest delights, to see your own honour and vertues survive in your children. But as to that I'l answer you, and say, that your reward shall be greater in relieving the poor and needy; then to leave rich remembrances to Heirs; and procure you an everlasting blessing, that you might otherwise leave for a prey to your children; who it may be are so b.a.s.t.a.r.dized in their birth, that they are both Spendthrifts and Vagabonds; for it happens oft that good trees do not alwaies bring forth good fruit. If, when you have seriously perused this my Letter, you are not affrighted at your intention; marry: but if you take it indifferently; marry not. And beleeve me, that a man who is free from the troubles & vexations of marriage, is much happier and hath more content to himself in one day, then another in the whole scope of his Wedlock. And what's more, a single man may freely and resolutely undertake all things, to Travel, go to battell, be solitary, & live according to his own delight; without fearing that at his death he shall leave a Widow and Fatherless children, who must be delivered over to the Fates, for their friends will never look after them. Hitherto I have kept you up, concerning your intention; and further I give you no other advice, then what by your self you may take to your self. If you marry, you do well: but not marrying, you do better. And if you will incline to me, rather then to marry, you shall alwaies find me to be

SIR